


A Visit to Lothering

by servantofclio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: Morrigan mentions in DAO that she used to go to Lothering to snoop around as a child. Perhaps one day she encountered some other children?





	A Visit to Lothering

When Morrigan wanted to see humans (which wasn’t terribly often), she went to Lothering. Her mother had given permission long since, when she was still small. Better that she learn what humans did, and how to avoid them, as soon as she could. So she learned to skirt the village, and watched the villagers, and saw whose eyes sparked with pity or avarice at the sight of a wild, unattended child. She learned, too, how to wheedle food or other favors out of the first sort, and how to avoid the second. Grown-ups were so often simple, after all. They condescended and did not look about themselves nearly as well as they thought.

Other children could be far more interesting.

Today, Morrigan lurked in the hedgerow, watching three children go along the path. All of them were a little younger than herself: a smaller boy and girl, evidently the same age, and an older child, who kept calling to the others as they ran about. The elder child’s voice grew frayed as the younger two rampaged, jostling each other and nearly spilling their buckets of berries. Morrigan wondered what it might be like to have a sister. Mother had many daughters, or so the legends said, but ‘twas only the two of them in their little house. She supposed there were also the spiders and frogs and wolves and birds and other creatures outside, but none of them told Morrigan what to do, and neither was she in charge of them. On the whole, she might prefer matters that way. Looking after younger children seemed tiresome.

The little girl tripped then, rather proving Morrigan’s point, and a cascade of berries spilled out of her bucket into the dirt. “Bethy!” exclaimed the older child. “Ugh, mother wanted those for pie.”

“No, it’s all right,” the girl replied. “Look, I can fix it, see —” and the berries rolled themselves back into the bucket.

Now this was interesting. The girl had magic, too? Morrigan forgot herself, creeping closer and trying to recall if she had seen any such thing among the village children before. Rather to her surprise, neither of the other children showed any sign of fear or hatred. They only sighed, and the eldest said, “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No,” the girl said, grabbing up her bucket in both hands, and the boy called out:

“Hey, there’s a girl in the hedge!”

Morrigan froze as three sets of eyes followed the boy’s pointing finger to where she crouched. She almost changed shape on the spot, but they’d already seen her, so instead she straightened and put on the kind of face her mother sometimes made and said, “Well, what of it?”

“You’re spying on us,” the boy called out, as the elder child stepped between her and the smaller children. “She’s gonna go tell the templars!”

Morrigan laughed outright at that. “Why would I want to do a thing like that?”

The boy scowled at her, and the other two looked wary. “Do you… want something for not telling them?” ventured the eldest.

“Mother said there had been a beggar girl around town,” the girl put in.

Morrigan curled her lip. “I am no beggar.”

“Then what are you doing here?” the boy demanded. She ignored him. That question hardly deserved a response.

“But you’re not from Lothering,” the eldest said slowly. “Or we’d have seen you somewhere.”

Morrigan tossed her head. “People see what they want to see. Or don’t see what they don’t.” She narrowed her eyes at the younger girl. “I saw you, though.”

All three of them bristled.

“You’re not taking my sister,” the boy declared.

“Nobody’s taking anyone anywhere,” the eldest said loudly.

“You know you cannot stay here forever, yes?” Morrigan said, to all of them, since they seemed determined to face her as a united, scowling front. She scowled back. “They’ll turn on you.”

“Who, the villagers?” the eldest scoffed, but the girl shrank back.

“Papa will take care of it,” she said softly, but her lower lip wobbled.

The other two siblings noticed, and glared harder at Morrigan. Fools. She was only speaking truth. The whole village was under the Chantry’s sway. A young mage might hide for a while there, but only for a time. If they couldn’t see that, she might as well walk away and leave them to their fate.

She didn’t want to change or withdraw with all of them looking at her, though, so the four of them stood there, stiff and cross, glaring at each other.

“Children!” came a man’s call from down the road. All their heads snapped that way, and Morrigan took her chance, darting back into the hedge and changing herself into a crow, while they were all looking the other way.

“You’re all late, and your mother’s worried,” the man said as he approached, and all three of the children began talking at once as they rushed toward him:

“Papa —”

“Father, there was a girl —”

“— a witch girl in the hedge —”

“A witch girl?” he said, gathering the children close as he took one slow look around. His gaze passed right over Morrigan-the-crow, who scratched at the ground and stared back. “Are you sure, Carver?”

“She was hiding right there! And then she just… vanished.” The boy squinted around, helplessly, and Morrigan cawed.

“Be that as it may,” said the man, herding the three of them down the road. “Home, all of you.”

He cast one last look over his shoulder as they went. Morrigan watched them go for a few long minutes before she took flight, winging her way back to the wilds.


End file.
